


Of Sharp Talons and Sharper Eyes

by MidnightAlex



Series: The 100 Daemons AU [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Daemons, Azgeda!Clarke, Clarke's daemon is a bearded vulture, F/F, First Meetings, Grounder Politics, Lexa's is an owl, Polis, Pre-Relationship, Roan and Clarke brotp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-22 05:01:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11960244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidnightAlex/pseuds/MidnightAlex
Summary: Clarke was expecting Polis to be full of pompous politicians and human masses; she wasn't expecting the Commander's eyes to follow her wherever she went.orRoan and Clarke go to Polis after successfully taking control of Azgeda to become part of the Coalition. Roan is a horrible politician, Clarke is a mess and Lexa is a curious Heda.





	Of Sharp Talons and Sharper Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> That's my first fanfic ever and English is not my first language so constructive criticism on both the story and the grammar would be much appreciated.
> 
> Enjoy!

Clarke didn't really want to leave Azgeda. Asher and her had barely gotten used to the new quarters she had secured for them in the palace after Nia's death -Roan insisted she had to act like a high ranking general at least sometimes and having nice quarters was part of it- and she wasn't very keen to end up in a whole different city, with different people, a different climate and a bloody different room for the spirits knew how long.

She told Roan, but he just laughed and told her to suck it up.

And now they were on the road to Polis, with only sixty warriors of the royal guard and the new Ambassador to replace the current one, one of Nia's old loyalists.

There weren't many truly loyal to Nia left in Azgeda, most were simply too scared of her to do anything but what she told them too, but Clarke and Roan still had their hands full in the past few months securing their position and weeding them out. Nia's loyalists may have been small in numbers, but they were well connected and damn good at staying alive and plotting.

Clarke urged her horse to a trot, moving from where she had fallen in the back of the group and slowing to a stop next to Roan, eyeing him from the corner of her eye. He wasn't wearing the crown of bones of Azgeda -not that there was any reason for him to in the middle of the forest- and had shed the outer layer of furs like most of the others in their company. They weren't too far South of the Azgeda border, but it was already much warmer. His daemon Raiga was curled around his neck, the ermine's white fur almost disappearing in the thicker one across his shoulders.

'You're not going to start whining about going to Polis again, are you?' Roan's deep voice was teasing, though gentle. He knew how hard that was for her.

Clarke just huffed. 'If you didn't want to hear me whine, you could have left me holding the fort back at the capital.'

When she had first fallen to Earth, in the old and beaten pod Jaha had chucked her into with the excuse of needing some proof that the Earth was survivable she had landed in Azgeda territory and was immediately captured by some of Nia's warriors. She shuddered, remembering the dark and cold cell, the bite of the rats' teeth on her skin, the cold shackles tearing at her wrists and ankles, and the pain. Those first months on Earth were nothing but pain and cold and dark and Nia's cold presence. She had barely survived, and almost broke when Asher finally settled, taking the form of a terrifying bearded vulture; with white eyes swimming in pools as red as blood, wings as dark as the cell they were kept in and a body as white as the snow she had barely seen before she was captured. She supposed it made sense though, with a quick glance to where he was perched on her shoulder, that he would take the form of something that fed on bones and carcasses. There wasn't much else in those dungeons. Only death and pain.

Roan was the only good thing she knew then. He used to sneak into the dungeons when he could; talking to her first because he thought if she was part of a possible army of invaders she could help him usurp her mother and then because he wanted to know about life in the Ark. They formed some sort of bond, then; Roan became her support in the midst of pain and the brother she could never have on the Ark and she became Roan's confidante in a place full of enemies and spies.

And a damn good strategist, he soon realized. Clarke was good at many things, but she had a quick mind and was able to take the worst decisions on the spot, weighing pros and cons with a clear mind no matter the circumstances. It was a quality that Roan lacked, he often was too prideful to consider every possibility and couldn't see certain things and angles until they were pointed out to him.

Almost as if sensing her morose mood Asher gave a harsh cry, jumped from her shoulder guard and spread his black wings whacking her on the back of the head in the process. She ignored Roan's snickers and just grumbled at Asher's figure getting smaller and smaller in the sky.

Ignoring the mutterings of the warriors behind them, though, was much more difficult. 

Regardless of how long she had lived among them, she knew it made them uneasy every single time to see her daemon get so far from her, it wasn't natural. The connection between human and daemon was much weaker for Clarke and Asher; possibly because of Nia's torture. She used to order Asher and her to be separated for long stretches of time, closing them in cells on different parts of the dungeons and, if she was feeling particularly sadistic, on different parts of the city.

Clarke shivered at the memory. Most of the time she was glad they survived with their minds relatively intact, other times she couldn't help but wonder if it would have been better for them to have died in that cell.

 

 

Lexa had been tense for the past five months. Nia's sudden -and suspicious- death had caused an uproar within the Kongeda. The ambassadors were scrambling to figure out how the change in leadership would affect Azgeda and the trading routes, and whether King Roan would create problems to the Kongeda as his mother had done before him.

On one side, Lexa she was overjoyed she wouldn't have to deal with Nia and her schemes and madness anymore, although she wasn't sure whether her son would be any better than her. On the other side, she would have preferred to kill the woman herself to avenge Costia's death. She took a deep breath, forcing her mind to avoid thinking too deeply of Costia.

The day finally came for the Azgeda delegation with King Roan to come to Polis to either take the brand of the Kongeda or reject it. She was seated on her throne, watching the ambassadors mutter between themselves from where they were seated in the throne room waiting for the Azgeda convoy to arrive after receiving word of them being at the gates. 

Her back was already stiff, but she sat even straighter when the doors were opened and in came the newly crowned king Roan with the new ambassador and the general and advisor, judging from the ceremonial scars on her face. That surprised Lexa; he must have been fairly secure in his position to feel safe enough to leave Azgeda without his most trusted keeping an eye on things.

She narrowed her eyes, assessing his relaxed stance while he got closer to the throne; he didn't seem to be looking for trouble. She quickly studied the general just behind the King; she was a petite blonde woman, with an almost comically big vulture perched on her shoulder. At least, it would have been comical if the animal hadn't had eyes like blood staring at everyone in the room with murder in its gaze and a beak that looked sharp enough to pierce through metal and was staring at the previous Azgeda ambassador as if wondering how long it would take it to eat him. 

Uneasy, Lexa studied the woman carefully.

She was beautiful, with light golden hair and blue eyes that were hard as steel and cold as ice. She was emotionless and pale, with a rather nasty scar peeking out from the collar of her fur jacket, running horizontally along her neck. She moved like a warrior, with sure steps and a stiff stance and her eyes were studying carefully and analytically the whole room, from the entrance and the guards to the ambassadors and herself. 

She felt herself stiffen even more when she crossed her eyes. Her daemon, Elesmera, moved slightly closer to her from her perch on one of the antlers on the back of her throne.

That one. That one was dangerous.

 

 

King Roan took his oaths without too much fanfare, much to Lexa's and everyone's relief. He clearly didn't want or wasn't ready to create problems just yet, and he seemed relaxed throughout the whole process. General Klark, on the other end, was incredibly tense.

Lexa had heard stories of a ferocious and vicious general who raised fairly quickly through the Azgeda ranks named Klark. No one knew who she was exactly, but everyone seemed to share the idea that going against her would only end in disaster. She had quickly gained a reputation for being ruthless and rarely leaving any of her enemies alive unless they could be useful to her. Lexa was most certainly not expecting such a ferocious individual to be a small woman who looked too small to hunt a deer, let alone order armies around.

Throughout the meeting following King Roan's oath Lexa had to force herself to pay attention to the ambassadors discussing possible trade routes with Azgeda, her attention continually taken by the blonde, who was standing stiffly behind the king's seat, her eyes shrewdly studying the occupants of the room with a focus eerily similar to that of the daemon on her shoulder. 

There was something in her gaze that made Lexa incredibly uneasy. She seemed to be studying everything and everyone; the way the ambassadors were seated, who spoke with who and why. Occasionally, she would bend slightly and murmur something to her king, prompting a vicious smirk from the man. She was collecting information.

She kept studying the general the next day when she attended the meeting with the ambassadors alone while her king was off somewhere -probably chasing women if what she heard of him was true- and later in the evening, when the week-long festivities to celebrate King Roan's oaths to the Kongeda started.

The more she looked at the woman, the more she noticed how easily she could manoeuvre a room full of politicians into doing exactly what she wanted. She also noticed that she seemed to abhor being surrounded by too many people regardless of how good she was at dealing with them. Even King Roan was very careful not to touch her, and all the Azgeda that came with them seemed to be keeping their distance. 

 

 

Clarke felt like her skin was crawling. Asher was as uneasy as she was, and had spent the last two days either perched on her shoulder or in the forest surrounding Polis. She grimaced, shrugging to let him know that he was getting too heavy, and he moved to the other shoulder with some grumbling. She sighed, moving down the corridor towards Roan's room and massaging her newly freed shoulder. Polis was…loud. And crowded. She almost had a heart attack when she first came upon the crowded streets, the vendors yelling from every corner and children running everywhere. There was nothing like that on the Ark; everything was muted somehow as if they were all just bodies to fill space and waiting to die. Which, she supposed, was exactly what they were.

She tried not to think too much of them now. Probably all dead or dying, the lack of oxygen would have crept up on them slowly, taking people by surprise, creating panics and revolts. She doubted anyone would still be alive by now. It had been almost three years since her father discovered the failing systems, almost three years since she had been sent to the ground. She supposed she had been lucky, she had been only sixteen at the time. Had she been older, Jaha would have had her killed with her father without a second thought, instead of having to resort to sending her to her death with the excuse of a suicide mission. Joke's on him, she supposed. She was still alive.

She turned a corner sharply, Asher spreading his wings slightly to not lose balance, and strode along the corridor near Roan's quarters, stopping only when she noticed a small cluster of Trikru warriors coming her way. They were all staring at her suspiciously, and Asher emitted a low menacing sound puffing up his feathers while she just stared at them.

Then she noticed the Commander was with them, looking at her in that strange way she had that made her skin crawl worse than the crowd of vendors outside the tower. Every time she looked at the Commander, she found her already looking in her direction, studying her as if trying to put a puzzle together.

She didn't like it.

'General Klark.' Her voice was smooth, kinder than she expected from the Commander of the Twelve Clans, and reminded Clarke of a girl on the Ark; sweet and shy and usually found in the library with big eyes and sweet lips. But the Commander's eyes weren't as kind as the girl's; they were hard, and green as the forest, sharp and focused on her with laser-like intensity.

'Heda.' 

Clarke saw the flash of surprise in those green eyes the second before it passed; her voice had been ruined those first months on the ground, her vocal chords damaged by too much screaming. Her voice had always been somewhat low, but now it had a raspy quality to it that seemed to leave people as uneasy as Asher's eyes.

'I am afraid that if you are looking for King Roan, he has left the tower some time ago after our meeting.'

Clarke had a second to be surprised by the Commander offering her information without prodding before scowling deeply. That idiot left the tower without her?

Asher, irritated, squawked and flew outside the nearby window, probably to look for him from above, as worried about his safety as she was. She pulled back the strands of hair that her daemon's hasty departure blew on her face.

'Thank you, Heda. I will take my leave then.' She said with a quick nod of her head, her mind already planning the revenge she would take on Roan for leaving her alone.

She had just turned around, mind running on possibilities of bitter tea and cushions stuffed with smelly herbs when the carefully restrained voice of the Commander stopped her.

'Your…daemon. How can he be so far from you?'

She could hear the strain in the Commander's voice and the mutterings of the guards behind her and sighed. Then she turned back around, her expression carefully empty.

'We are not sure, Heda. We were parted against our will a number of times and survived, we think it might be related to that experience.'

Those green eyes weren't hard anymore. They were wide and soulful, and they had a look that pierced through Clarke like a spear. Perched on the window near the commander, the yellow eyes of the woman's tawny owl daemon looked at her in the same way; soft brown feathers puffed up in distress. Its talons were digging in the old wooden frame.

The Commander's gaze was like one of the hot pokers of Nia's dungeons; piercing and cauterizing her skin and leaving a pulsing pain in its wake.

Later that night, revenge on Roan forgotten, she dreamed of soulful green eyes looking at her from between the bars of her cell, a book clutched between tanned hands.

 

 

Lexa had thought that interacting with general Klark would erase the mystery from her person and leave her free to focus her attention on other matters.

She was wrong.

It had been days since they crossed paths in the corridor in the ambassador's wing of the tower, and she couldn't for the life of her stop thinking of the woman's daemon flying away like it wasn't bound to its human; like there wasn't a connection between body and soul. Every time they crossed ways, the spark of curiosity would burn just a bit brighter, leaving her frustrated and confused.

She wondered what happened to the mysterious general Klark kom Azgeda. She wondered how one might survive being parted from their daemon without losing their mind. She wondered at the scar peeking out from her collar. She wondered if they were related. 

She tried not to think of Nia.

 

 

After a while, Klark seemed to disappear. At first, she had attended the majority of the meetings with King Roan, but a few days after Lexa saw her in the corridor the general seemed very keen on disappearing, making her extremely uneasy. She had Titus send someone to check her movements, worried about possible Azgeda treachery and found that she spent her time either in her chamber or in the periphery of Polis, walking around aimlessly.

Her daemon, though, was always close to the king. 

She ruthlessly ignored the crawling feeling that seeing a lone daemon without human gave her, conscious of white-red eyes staring at her from their perch near the door. Elesmera was not faring quite so well; her tawny feathers puffed up every time she saw the vulture alone, big yellow eyes staring unblinkingly at the sizable bird on the other side of the room from where she perched just behind her on the throne's antlers.

Lexa took a deep breath and focused on the task at hand; Boudalan and Floukru were squabbling about how many fish to sell and which trade routes to use like they did every year and Lexa had to try really hard not to throttle the two ambassadors.

She could already feel a migraine coming.

Elesmera let out a soft hoot next to her ear.

She was just about to request silence and deal with the matter herself when a deep screech resonated through the room, making the ambassadors and guards jump in surprise and alarm and most of the daemons scatter and hide near their humans.

Asher, still screeching, spread its wings, almost knocking a standing candelabra to the ground with their span, and glided across the room to perch on Roan's seat. Raiga, Roan's ermine daemon, didn't seem alarmed and instead climbed the back of the chair to get closer to talons as long as a man's hand.

Silence reigned for a few seconds in the room, everyone staring at the lone  
daemon in alarm, until Lexa cleared her throat.

'Floukru has no reason to request higher payment for the same amount of fish barrels of last year, your season was as good as the last. As for the trade route, Floukru merchants can go through the village of chief Markall on the border with Delfikru until the usual route is cleared from the debris of the ravine and the bridge is repaired. Now, are there any other urgent matters to be discussed?'

The Floukru and Boudalan ambassadors grumbled but seemed pacified, while the others seemed to still be trying to shake off the unease of having a lone daemon screech at them.

'Very well, then. We shall reconvene tomorrow to discuss the matter of Ingranona's request of material for the construction of roads for trade. King Roan, a word, if you please.'

The ambassadors seemed quite eager to leave the room, fumbling to exit without passing too close to where King Roan was still sitting watching them with an amused smirk, the vulture casting a shadow on half his face with its body.

Lexa rose, trying not to show how stiff hours of sitting on the throne had made her and walked down the few stairs to get closer to the table in the centre of the room.

'King Roan, I have some questions regarding your general, Klark kom Azgeda. I hoped you could answer some of them.'

The familiar weight of Elesmera on her shoulder helped to ground her, especially when the vulture daemon moved its wings and clicked its beak in what she assumed was irritation. She tried to ignore it as best she could.

Roan took a deep breath and stood up, looking uneasy for the first time since he came to Polis. He looked at the bird of prey behind him, clearly familiar enough with Klark to be able to focus directly on the daemon without crossing too many boundaries.

Lexa wondered briefly if the King and the General were lovers and shook off the pang of jealousy she felt, unwilling to analyse its cause.

He turned back to her after Asher clicked its beak again, a low rumbling sound signalling his irritation.

'Heda, if I may request that you bring your questions to Klark kom Azgeda herself? She is…reserved, Heda. With good reasons.'

 

 

Clarke had found a rather nice and deserted spot on a hill just behind the warrior's barracks and training grounds on the edge of the city, near the gates. Strangely enough, it seemed to be avoided by most, regardless of the fact that the signs and traces on the ground attested to someone training there.

She was staring at the sky, still unused to seeing it from that side of the atmosphere, when Asher landed next to her, a sizable rabbit caught in his talons. 

They didn't say anything, Asher merely working the fine red soil on his feathers to give them an orange-red colour. She was fairly certain that bearded vultures in the wild only used soil to paint their feathers as a marker of status, but Asher seemed to like it and thought it was more intimidating. He figured he ought to try and scare people as much as he could since she most certainly wasn't physically imposing. Clarke figured he had a point, she wasn't particularly tall and, while muscular, people from the Ark just didn't have the genes to get too big.

They weren't supposed to take much space in their metal coffin, after all.

It was a while later that she heard someone coming up the hill. She knew it wasn't Roan or anyone from Azgeda, as they would have known better than to get close to her from behind and without announcing themselves. 

She tensed and sprung to her feet, unleashing her knives in a fluid motion, before freezing. 

Green, soulful eyes stared back at her, surprised before they became guarded and hard.

A tanned hand gripped the handle of a sword.

Clarke took a deep breath and sheathed her blades; she had no intention of causing an international incident and bowed slightly.

'Apologies, Heda. I do not care for people coming up from behind me.'

Another flash across those eyes, a hand loosening its grip on the sword, shoulders losing some of their stiffness.

'That is…understandable.' Clarke almost scoffed. 'May I ask what you are doing here?'

Clarke shrugged and looked around. 'It's empty.'

The Commander looked at her with furrowed brows and confusion in her eyes. 'Exactly.'

'That's why I'm here. I don't like people.'

The Commander didn't seem to know what to say to that and they just stood in awkward silence for a few seconds.

Then Asher started to crack and eat the bones of his prey, prompting both the Commander and her daemon to look at him with equal parts surprise and disgust. Clarke sighed.

'You're disgusting.'

Asher didn't even bother to look at her when he answered, mumbling around bloody bones. 'I'm a bearded vulture. We eat bones, deal with it.' he cracked another one. 'Besides, I'm you, you're disgusting.'

Clarke huffed and glared at the daemon, before turning back to the Commander, who was looking very out of place.

'Can I help you with something, Heda?'

The Commander made a gesture with her hand, indicating Clarke was to walk with her. She seemed to be recovered from her bout of awkwardness, much to Clarke's dismay. It was…cute, how the Commander of the Twelve clans seemed to not be able to deal with friendly banter.

They walked a bit in pensive silence. Clarke was just about to ask if the Commander actually wanted something from her when the woman looked at her.

'I have some questions about you, Klark kom Azgeda. I hope you would see fit to answer them.'

Clarke stiffened and stared hard at the Commander. Was it a ploy to discover weakness in Azgeda? Did the Commander intend to betray Roan? Or to take control of Azgeda to avoid Roan becoming like Nia?

'Do I have a choice?'

Maybe her tone was a bit too harsh, because the Commander stopped and narrowed her eyes at her, back straight and hands behind her back. Her daemon narrowing piercing eyes at her.

'I would suggest you watch your tone, general. I could very well order you to answer my questions.'

Clarke gritted her teeth, trying to keep a neutral expression. Asher clicked his beak, almost nicking her ear in his agitation, and opened his wings without spreading them completely to make himself bigger.

'Apologies, Heda.' she said through gritted teeth and shrugging her shoulder slightly to signal her daemon to calm down. Asher bumped his head against her cheek in sympathy before he left her shoulder and flew away with an angry screech. Clarke figured it was a good thing he left, he might have done something to offend the Commander even more; he was even less interested in niceties than she was.

 

 

After shaking off her instinctual irritation at being challenged and sparing a glance at the daemon leaving its human, Lexa could see the strain her words had on the general; her shoulder and back were incredibly stiff, the skin around her eyes and mouth tight and pale, the tendons in her neck tensed making the scar stand out even more.

She wondered if Klark had thought her words to be an attempt to insert herself into Azgeda politics, and realized that the General likely didn't trust her. Or anyone, if how she conducted herself as if perpetually surrounded by enemies was anything to go by. She decided to make clear that her interest was in her person and her history, rather than her position in the clan.

Lexa thought of king Roan's words of caution and cautiousness in talking about his general. Perhaps a less direct approach would be wiser, Lexa could see the tension in the other woman's frame and her narrowed eyes studying her like a wild beast. 

They looked like shards of ice, so cold and sharp.

Lexa took a deep breath, deciding on a course of action, and resumed walking. Perhaps she ought to actually treat the woman like some untamed beast and approach carefully.

'Perhaps I should have made myself clearer, general. I am curious about your person and the nature of your… diluted connection to your daemon. It is something I have never come across before. Would you be willing to enlighten me?'

The tension didn't leave the woman's frame, although her eyes lost some of their ice before they closed and a pained expression briefly crossed her face.

'I-' Lexa wondered at how her voice broke and shook. 'I would rather not talk about it, Heda. They are not pleasant memories.'

Lexa pursed her lips and nodded, disappointed. 'Very well. I will not ask, then.'

She saw with the corner of her eye how Klark's frame seemed to slump with relief before she drew herself up again.

 

 

Clarke had been surprised when the Commander approached her and even more when she seemed interested in her story.

But she was absolutely floored when the woman backed off after Clarke told her she didn't wish to speak of it. It was not something she expected from a woman used to giving orders and having them carried out to the last detail. Hell, the Trikru especially seemed to think of her as some kind of superhuman entity; she would have assumed that would have built up someone's ego to the point of feeling entitled to about anything.

It seemed she had been wrong in her analysis. She had observed how the Commander was able to manipulate the ambassadors until she had everyone where she wanted them to and making them think it had been their idea from the start. She had observed her cold and unfazed demeanour never change and hardly ever being shaken except when challenged. She had seen cold eyes turn soft with curiosity but no less sharp.

She had not seen the kindness of leaving her curiosity behind for someone's else sake until that was exactly what happened.

Clarke had been holed up in Roan's room for almost two days in an attempt to avoid the Commander and the uneasiness and confusion she brought with her. She wasn't willing to analyse her emotions that closely.

She sighed from where she was sprawled on the couch sketching, her bare feet in Roan's lap.

She could feel Roan's gaze on her, but he knew better than to press her for answers and left her alone, simply offering the calm and security that came with his presence.

She tensed when someone knocked on the door, but didn't move. It was probably their ambassador coming to ask for directions on some thing or another. 'Come in.' Roan seemed to be of the same mind because he did not move and remained fairly relaxed.

Until the Commander stepped into the room, looking at her quizzically and with a brief flash of something in her eyes when she caught their position before her eyes focused on the uncovered scars on her arms.

Clarke sprang up into a seated position and closed the sketchbook with a resounding crack; no need for anyone to know she was sketching the Commander herself. She ignored Roan's amused glance and stared at a spot just behind the Commander's shoulder.

She refused to cover herself. This room was supposed to be her safe place and she would not cover her scars here.

Roan stood up with an amused huff, looking between the Commander and her, and nodded his respect. 'Heda. I was not expecting a visit. Is there something that requires my attention?'

The Commander tore her gaze from Clarke -who was still staring at the wall- and studied Roan for a few moments. 'I merely wished to discuss privately the matter of the tensions between Azgeda and Podakru. I would not wish for it to become a problem for the Coalition.'

Roan's easy disposition seemed to melt away, and Raiga hissed from where she was curled on the sofa next to Clarke. She scowled at the wall.

'Heda, Azgeda has not yet taken action against Podakru, but if they keep pressing at our borders, I will have no other choice.' Roan's voice was a deep growl as he spoke through his teeth, and the Commander seemed to stiffen in response.

Until Clarke kicked him in the butt from where she sat, making him stumble and grunting in surprise. Stupid, admitting to being willing to take up arms against another clan in the Coalition barely a week after taking his oaths. Especially when there are other routes to be exhausted before that.

Her actions surprised the Commander, who most certainly wasn't expecting a general to be able to kick her king without dying or being severely punished and seemed to struggle to maintain an unaffected façade while looking between the two them.

Roan glared at her. 'You know as well as I that our people will not accept Podakru's actions to be left unpunished, Klark.'

She sighed, wishing desperately that he would just shut up while in front of the Commander and stood up, brushing against his shoulder when she went to retrieve her long sleeved shirt from where she had thrown it on the floor.

She tried not to feel the burning gaze of the Commander following her.

'There are other options, still.' She looked around for her boots after putting on her shirt. 'No need to get worked up and cause a war.' 

She wasn't sure whether the Commander caught her implicit yet, but Roan did and his eyes sparkled in that way they had when he realized she was plotting something.

He smiled and turned back to the Commander.

'Well, Heda. Perhaps I have been a bit rushed in my anger. Would you like some tea? No need to talk while standing. Politics are tiring enough when seated, after all.'

Clarke snorted and left the room with an amused bow. Roan would let her know everything that happened after the Commander had left.

 

 

From what she had heard Lexa hadn't expected Roan to be a particularly good politician and was proved right when he showed himself to be quick to anger and rushed decisions. What she had most certainly not expected was General Klark calming him down and proving to be the mastermind behind his political manoeuvres. It would seem that she had underestimated her influence on the man.

She was also worried, it was clear that she had something in mind with regard to Podakru's villages hunting in Azgeda's territory and while Azgeda was indeed the wronged party, she had no wish to see what a woman renowned for her brutality would think an adequate retribution to the offence.

The Coalition was already frail as it was, and Maun-de was a big enough danger without having to worry about another war between the clans.

She instructed Titus to keep observing the woman's actions and was both relieved and confused when no change in her usual movements was detected and she had no contact with the Podakru's ambassador. She was, instead, incredibly alarmed when she realized she hadn't seen her daemon in a couple of days.

Her scouts reported the same information for a week more, with Podakru hunting in Azgeda territory and tensions rising between the ambassadors; alliances were starting to form between the clans in the event of a war. Roan's quick temper seemed to have been calmed somewhat, as he seemed content to observe the ambassadors bicker among themselves while Klark stood straight behind his chair, studying everyone with her sharp gaze, likely cataloguing everything that happened to be used if necessary. Lexa thought she seemed a bit more relaxed with every day that passed, regardless of the fact that shouting matches between the Azgeda and Podakru ambassadors seemed to become a common occurrence often dragging in others.

Lexa was trying to think about how to diffuse the situation when one morning the Podakru ambassador came into the throne room pale and skittish, giving a wide berth to Roan's seat and seating without his usual bluster.

Lexa noticed Klark looking at him with a disturbing intensity and a small smirk, matched by that of her daemon, who she had been informed had been seen returning from the East late at night, possibly carrying something with its talons. Lexa had thought it had been some prey, but now she was not sure.

The Podakru's capital, after all, was East of Polis. A fast bird could get there in three to four days.

 

 

Clarke was feeling very accomplished and deserving of a good pat on the shoulder for a job well done. She had sent Asher to the Podakru capital to gather information on the leaders and the ambassador to use against them -blackmail was very handy in these matters, after all- and he came back not only with that but also with a very personal, very recognizable knife from the Podakru's king's quarters.

He kept the knife just next to his bed, apparently.

She had sent Asher to the ambassador's room early in the morning; he was not a particularly pleasant sight to wake up to with his white and red eyes and sharp beak and even less if he so happened to have your king's personal knife clutched in his talons. It wasn't a very subtle threat, but Clarke figured that subtlety would have flown over the ambassador's head; he was too stupid and too arrogant.

Seeing him at the meeting, pale and scared, made her feel fuzzy and warm inside and she could not refrain from caressing Asher's feathers like some kind of villain. She figured the ambassador wouldn't catch the reference to the old world movies anyway.

She studiously ignored the way the Commander seemed incredibly focused on her, she had figured she would have kept an eye on her after the episode in Roan's chambers, and she had allowed the people sent to spy on her to think they hadn't been noticed. It had worked wonderfully in keeping the attention on her instead of Asher or Roan.

 

 

She received word from her scouts four days after the sudden change of heart of the ambassador. Podakru had stopped intruding in Azgeda's territory. In exchange, there were rumours of a threat to the king, and the capital was buzzing with warriors. Lexa had always thought King Liam had grown paranoid in his old age and figured that as long as he was worried about people trying to kill him from the capital he wouldn't attempt anything else against Azgeda.

She thought back to General Klark and how she had likely sent her daemon to the Podakru's capital and…what exactly? Sent him to kill the king? A daemon wouldn't touch a human that is not theirs, surely not even Klark's bizarre daemon would? And what people would think simply a lone bird doing strange things wouldn't cause such panic. 

She narrowed her eyes, staring at the training Natblida in front of her without seeing them. The daemon came back with something, or so it had been reported. Perhaps he had taken some possession of the king? If he could take something from him, it wouldn't be a stretch to poison him or orchestrate an assassination as well after all. 

She breathed sharply. It was certainly not subtle, but effective if the way the ambassador had stopped creating problems was anything to go by.

Klark had played it well. No one could prove where her daemon had gone or what he did, and likely no one would even think to focus on her daemon's actions instead of hers. She shivered at the thought of a daemon being not only far from its human, but basically a whole nation away. She tried not to think of how useful a tool like that would be, how easier it would make for scouts and spies to gather knowledge or how dangerous someone like that could be.

She saw a flash of yellow from the corner of her eyes and turned to see General Klark at the foot of the hill, looking at the Natblida with interest. She started towards her, nodding to Titus to indicate that he should continue with the training and ignoring his irritated scowl. He didn't want her anywhere near Klark, thinking it would be safer to have her assassinated and be done with it.

She watched with interest the woman's daemon land on her shoulder none too gently, almost making her tumble to the ground. She watched her turn her head towards him and say something sharply and the daemon responding with a high pitched screech in her ear. 

She furrowed her brows and Elesmera cocked her head to the side in that way owls had. They were…playing?

She remembered the sharp jabs at each other the last time they spoke on the same hill. She remembered how confused it left her to see such a playful side to the general rumoured to have devastated whole villages.

She saw how all playfulness left the woman's face when she saw Lexa walking down to hill in her direction and how she straightened her back. Lexa tried to ignore how she thought she would like to see a playful Klark more often.

'Heda.' Her raspy voice was carefully controlled and her daemon was studying her and Elesmera. She cocked her head, blue eyes darting behind her for a second before going back to hers. 'Is the hill usually empty because it is reserved for the Natblidas?'

Lexa came to a stop a few feet from the general, her hands behind her back and back straight, Elesmera perched on her pauldron in a similar way to the other woman's daemon. It seemed the woman intended to direct the conversation away from politics, as she generally didn't start a conversation.

'Indeed. It is not a formal rule, but warriors tend to stay away from this area.'

Klark made an interested sound. 'So I can come here when the Nablida are not training and no one will disturb me?'

Lexa narrowed her eyes, suspicious. 'And why would you want to come here, general?'

'Haven't I said it already? I like how empty it is. And I can train without people watching.'

 

 

Without having to worry about possible wars breaking out Clarke and the Commander started a sort of routine; the Commander would attend the meetings with the ambassadors and deal with the daily running of Polis and Clarke would shadow Roan to make sure he made the right connections with the right people and didn't cause an international incident with his temper or devil-may-care attitude.

Then, after Clarke had finished babysitting the King of Azgeda, she would make her way to the Natblida's training field and start working on forms with her knives, Asher usually perched on a tree surrounding the hill, out of sight. After a while the Commander would join her and they would spar, barely saying a word to each other, preferring to speak one with knives and the other with swords.

Clarke could still see the quick inquisitive glances the Commander would give her anytime she would shed her jacket and be left with her scarred arms uncovered, or when she would accidentally sneak up on her and Clarke would react disproportionately. But she never said anything and Clarke was infinitely glad for it, if not confused.

 

 

Lexa kept studying Klark during meetings and when they trained. She had a sharp mind, able to manipulate someone into doing what she wanted with the same ease she could coerce them with mere words and was a brutal fighter, seemingly uninterested in avoiding superficial injuries as long as she could deal damage to her opponent. 

Lexa felt a trickle of unease along her spine. She had thought King Roan of Azgeda would be a problem, instead, it seemed that his chief advisor and general might be ten times more dangerous than he could ever be. She wasn't sure whether it would be safer to have her in Polis where she could keep an eye on her or in Azgeda, out of sight and free to plot unhindered.

She figured she would soon find out, she thought as she watched the Azgeda delegation leave Polis to prepare their clan for the quickly approaching winter.


End file.
